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On My One-Month Old

I cannot believe one month ago, my little baby boy made his debut into this world. This has been the longest month of my life, mainly because he has colic– help. me. At the same time it felt like I just blinked and Niko started growing out of his newborn diapers and clothes. What happened?! Aside from being completely sleep deprived and fueled by caffeine and questionably running on little food, because I never have time to really eat, I can say at this point I think I’m starting to get the hang of it. By “it” I mean functioning while being fueled by caffeine and questionably running on little food, because I never have time to really eat. I have also become quite adept to doing things with my one free hand, while balancing a baby in the other hand! I’m quite proud of that, and terrified at the same time.

Niko at 1 day old and 3 weeks old
Niko at 1 day old in the hospital versus 3 weeks old

Enough about me though, it’s really about Niko and this milestone of his. In this relatively short amount of time I’ve learned a lot about him. Without further ado, here’s a recap of him in the past month.

  • He is the kind of baby that needs “extra love”– in other words, you must be holding him while he’s awake. Some times it’s not just holding him, he likes to walk around with you, especially at 3-6AM in the morning. Fine. I’m a night person anyway. But is that even night? Nevermind..
  • He loves car rides. I love car rides with him. You know why? Because he’ll definitely fall asleep in the car. Of course the car has to be moving, and he will know the difference.
  • You would think a tiny person wouldn’t have more laundry than you. You would be WRONG. His hamper is full every week. Side note, I thought I received too many blankets to use, but I soon realized.. you cannot have too many receiving/swaddler blankets, because everything is a spit rag when you have a baby. No blanket? You better use your shirt before it gets ugly. Just saying. And I definitely go through many blankets.
  • He’s been able to hold his head up since he popped out of the womb, y’all! I didn’t even know babies could do that. I still have to hold his wobbly head, but he can lift it and hold it for a good few seconds without it jerking back like a bobble head.
  • I think he likes noise better than quiet. DANG IT!
  • He really likes baths. Thank God.
  • He enjoys using his walking reflex. He better enjoy it while he can before it disappears. That’s great for me that it’ll disappear soon, my arms are tired from holding him upright so he can “walk”.
  • Sometimes he makes these weird noises. He sounds like a baby velociraptor or cat or bird. I don’t know. It’s weird.
  • He has the best facial expressions. He can even raise both eyebrows separately. Not purposely, but I’m sure that’ll happen later on because I raise my eyebrows a lot. He cracks me up with them! He isn’t so amused by my amusement. Yet.
  • Since he’s been about two weeks old he’s been hitting his toys that make noises, usually with his right hand. At first I wasn’t sure it was a fluke, BUT he seems to be doing it purposely. I had to observe him doing it for a while to tell the difference. I didn’t want to be one of those parents, but basically my baby is a genius. I’m just letting you know this right now.

    With my one month old baby!
    Someone.. needed a nap in this photo. By someone I mean both of us.

    This month has been a whirlwind. I can’t even believe I went into labor and delivered him a month ago. When he was three weeks old I was feeding him and staring at him as usual, and I was thinking of the day he was born and how I said hello and happy birthday to him when we met. Cue the water works. It’s like a distant dream, really. It is true what other parents say, and even though it’s only been a month–time really does fly by!

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    My Year in London

    On My Year in London, Pt. 1

    Whenever I hear music from my workout playlist it instantly reminds me of London. I spent a year there and I know it is really weird that I barely ever mentioned it on this blog. Part of the reason was that I was busy having fun, because– HELLO I was in London, and the other parts I was having “moments” that I just did not want to talk about on my blog. But the good news is that I have a ton of pictures from my year there, my travels, and lots of blogging material. So now I’ll let people what I did there, besides I want to break up the baby blogging, my life is revolving around it right now and I can use the mental break.

    Anyway, after I got settled at my first (out of three) place in London, I spent a lot of free time working out at the gym on my street and running to Primrose Hill or Regent’s Park, because it was so close to my flat. I lived with the weirdest landlady, who I’m sure did not give me her real name and used a flip phone. The flat and location were perfect. I lived right above a Waitrose, which is the American equivalent of a fancy grocery store, but not as fancy as Whole Foods, because they had a Whole Foods in London that I went to.. and it was much more expensive. I still went anyway, because.. I’m American. I also had a really nice doorman (porter), and a sexy elevator that reminded me of Grey’s Anatomy. As soon as I opened the door to my flat building to go outside, right across the street was the Finchley Road tube station and also a small shopping center. Trust me, living really close to a nice flat next to a tube station was heaven sent and SO convenient. Half a mile down the road was my gym, which was pretty nice by my standards and had a hot trainer that was always friendly with me. I hate distractions at the gym, but.. if it’s a really good one, I’ll welcome it.

    ………….

    Basically, it was the perfect place for me, aside from the crazy landlady that I didn’t trust and the expensive price tag.

    Then there was university, which was the reason I came to London in the first place.  I don’t know what I was thinking leaving so much time in between undergrad and postgrad.  It had been about 3 and a half years since I had set foot inside a classroom, and I swear it took that whole first term for my brain to even get with the program.  Not to mention, my undergrad degree was in psychology and this program was based in sociology/political sciences.  My professors might as well have spoken French to me for a couple of months. Not having to use your brain in that way in years and then having to think critically all the time, especially about a different subject, was so difficult for me.  All of this on top of trying to adjust to a completely different culture.  I will say this though, even though it was a challenge, completing it was so rewarding.  Who knows maybe I’ll bite the bullet and get a doctorate.  Maybe.

    This post was more of a introduction to my year in London series.  I have a lot to cover, from my favorite places, meeting new people, meeting David Beckham*, traveling to other countries, the agonies of grad school, and general London information from my point of view.  My second installment will be on Thursday, and I’ll keep posting about London on Thursdays.. because TBT, naturally.  If by chance you want me to talk about anything specific feel free to contact me by the form on this page. Until next time..

    *Yea, you read that correctly.  And to my friends, I will NEVER let y’all forget it.  EVER!

     

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    Mommyhood

    On Niko

    So my little pumpkin, Niko Malakai, made his world debut on Friday, 26 December 2014 at exactly midnight– he was 20.5 inches and 7 pounds and 8 ounces.  Someone was pretty hell bent on not being born on Christmas, but hey at least he came exactly on time. I’m glad he listened to those pep talks I had with him. For a while I kept trying to tell him not to come before Christmas Eve but don’t come in 2015. Perfect timing. I mean, how many babies come on their actual due date and at midnight? I mean.. he’s basically a unicorn. I can easily find out exactly how old he is, down to the minute at least.

    I actually started labor on Christmas Eve a few hours after a routine doctor’s appointment. I was napping (duh) in the afternoon and kept feeling dull aches from my lower stomach, and I really thought nothing of it because that’s not unusual after my appointments, but I kept getting them at regular intervals. I pretty much spent my Christmas Eve timing my contractions which were already less than 10 minutes apart when I started watching the clock. It was awful and felt like someone was constantly kicking my in my lower back. So fast forward to Christmas morning where I got admitted to the hospital for the first time at around 6AM, and dismissed a few hours later until my contractions started getting closer to 5 minutes apart and lasting much longer. Went back home, popped an Ambien that the doctor gave me, tried to nap it off– all the while being trippy on Ambien. Never again. It was like hallucinating while being half sleepy and on top of having to get up to use the rest room constantly and it did not make my pain from my contractions magically disappear. Finally after getting my contractions down to about 3-4 minutes apart, I went back to the hospital that afternoon and got admitted. A few more hours of having to painfully get through my contractions, all while attempting not to curse too much in front of my mother, and I finally got my epidural. Things were bliss after that, minus the fact that I kept shivering uncontrollably but that seemed like a small price to pay for that sweet relief. Y’all, I could not feel a thing from my lower back down, and it was great. I think they made me start pushing at around 11, because it seemed to take about an hour or less to get Niko out. Couldn’t feel it, but I’m sure I would have died, literally, if I had to felt that every single thing. Props to you if you had a completely drug free birth, you have my utmost respect, lady.

    Exactly at midnight Niko made his debut, face up (which is unusual) and they handed him to me.. slime and everything. That was surprising.  I don’t even recall ever really holding a tiny baby for a long period of time in my life, maybe once I did for a couple of minutes.  But to hold one that fresh– that was something else!  For a second, I completely forgot about all that pain from the previous two days.  It was worth it to hold my little pumpkin for the first time.  Granted, I will definitely be saving this past Christmas in my arsenal for when he gets older.

    It’s so funny because a few weeks prior a friend of mine asked me what I was going to be doing for Christmas, and my answer was that I’d be having a baby.  Funny how I was exactly right to not plan for anything.  Although he wasn’t born on Christmas, I now have a reason to celebrate two days in a row!

    I’ll skip the next two days I spent in the hospital on like 2 hours of sleep because someone was cluster feeding and had to have milk every hour…….. No one tells you that.  No one.  We finally went home Sunday afternoon.  You see my mom’s hand trying to hold his head up in this photo?  She was being a total helicopter mom.  JUST LET ME LIVE, MOTHER.  Just kidding.  I really do have a new appreciation for her as a mom and as a person.  She’s been my person throughout this whole pregnancy and delivery, and I really don’t even know what I’d do without her. Plus I look at my son, and I get it now.  That thing that moms talk about.  I get it.

    I’ve been home with my little guy for a week, and we’ve had our ups and downs, sleepless nights, late mornings sleeping in, sore boobs, lots of crying (on both parties).. but it’s been an experience!  I’ve learned quite a lot, about him and myself.  He’s a funny little guy.  He has a million facial expressions, just like me.  My favorite is this cheeky smile he has, it makes him look like he’s up to something, one day I’ll try to capture it.  He does most of his sleeping during daylight hours and like in the womb, he loves to party all night.  He has really good focus for a newborn, this surprised both my mother and I actually.  He peed on me a lot sooner than I thought he would– it happened the very first time I changed his diaper and he actually was not crying about it, he was very silent for the first time…… I should have known better.  He likes falling sleeping on me but will wake up shortly after I put him down in his bassinet or crib, and honestly I secretly don’t mind because I’m so used to him being close to me anyway– and I love it.

    I now spend my free time (his sleep time) deciding whether I want to eat, sleep, or clean something.  I spend entirely too much time just staring at him, like a true mamarazzi, especially when he’s asleep.  That is where most of my time is spent while he’s asleep unfortunately.  I just feel like I’ll miss something or just blink and he’ll be grown up or something.  He’s already a week old for crying out loud!  Life has been interesting to say the least, but my monster appetite has disappeared, thank God.  There have been moments where I would think it was so much later than it actually was, and I don’t even know what the day is?  Oh well.

    I still don’t think it hit me yet, but I have my moments when other people mention it to me.  While I was at the hospital, the nurse said to me, “mom, do you want anything?” and I thought she was talking to my mom.  But she wasn’t.  And that was my first moment, the first of many.

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    personally lyka

    On The Pregnancy Struggle

    So I’m allegedly having a baby sometime soon, my EDD is 26 December and so far everything is going smoothly. Although I’m at that point where I just can’t move anymore. This baby is so low in me and his presence has never been more real than while I’m attempting to walk like a normal person right now.

    To tell you the truth, I am one of those people where nothing really phases me whatsoever until right before it happens. I get it, I’m pregnant, there’s actually a person sharing a body with me at the moment, I get it– but then again it’s still a concept for me, not so much a tangible thing. Almost every day, without fail, I’ll say to myself “Oh yea, you’re pregnant!” I’m still trying to wrap my head around this, even at 39 weeks (minus one day) pregnant. I probably won’t have that shit just got real moment until I actually see this little guy.

    Now that I am in the final stretch before the “big moment”, I spend a lot of time reflecting on certain times. My mommy friends have been pretty invaluable to me in terms of giving me the heads up on things, and I’d like to attempt to do the same for any of my friends who have not experienced this yet.. so without further ado–

    That pregnancy glow is real. I know you know by now (at least I’m assuming you do) that it’s really just sweat, but I bet you didn’t know even though it’s winter that you might still find yourself sweating like it’s summer. This works out in my favor for me because my jackets do not even fit right now, so long sleeves and a light unbuttoned jacket works great for me. I still have to occasionally use the AC in my car though. Even in the middle of the night, I will wake up sweating and my hair will start to curl from the sweat. It makes me want to shower several times a day. I feel like have been a human heater for months now! I’m glad I’m having a winter baby, because I cannot imagine myself surviving a third trimester in any temperature that is remotely warm.

    Using your ab muscles becomes nonexistent after a certain point. Your body goes through many changes, this is one of those that is a big deal for me but is not something people really mention. Around the sixth month of pregnancy I realized that I should probably make a conscious decision to use my arms to get up instead of using my abs because those times I did not were soooo painful. Hello, there’s a baby there! A couple of times recently in my sleepy haze I would forget to use my arms to get out of bed and I would and instantly regret it. Let me tell you, there is going to be a lot of getting up in the middle of the night so drill this into your head and get those arms working!

    Pregnancy hunger. Anyone that knows me knows I love food. Like, aside from sleeping.. food is my love. All my favorite things usually involve me eating, because this big girl loves to eat. Let me tell you though, pregnancy hunger is completely different for me. Now, I am sure you have heard of the term hangry, which definitely applies to me because I do get visibly pissed when I am hungry. However, my hangry level increased exponentially the more my pregnancy progressed. It is so unreal. Not only do I get instantly pissed when I am hungry, BUT I get hungry SO OFTEN and if I don’t find something to snack on immediately– this kid will not stop kicking me. Oh, and it doesn’t matter if I’m asleep. That is what makes it different, and also the fact that I get full pretty easily. So having to eat often, but in not humongous quantities at once.. that is a lot for me to keep up with. There was a point where I’d wake up once or twice a night just to take my bathroom break and if I even tried to go to sleep without eating– non stop kicking. He’s obviously his mother’s child, but I did not realize that I would get to the point where eating became a chore. I imagine this is not going to wane because I plan on breastfeeding, but at least I won’t have someone kicking me from the inside to remind me to eat some more, right? Right. Anyway, this is just a heads up for anyone that already had a monster appetite. If you thought you could not possibly eat more.. you can. You can and you will.

    Your friends will get you so much baby stuff, you might as well wait a little bit before grabbing baby things, especially cute things in newborn sizes. Before I knew it I had so my tiny items of clothing, I kind of wish I waited or at least got bigger sizes. My son will essentially be naked after six months, I think. It will be summer anyway, so I don’t think it will matter too much.. But I digress. It is also funny what your guy friends gravitate towards getting you on your gift resigistry in comparison to your girl friends. My guy friends got me the most practical stuff ever, y’all– sans anything that had to do with breastfeeding, of course. I did notice that reoccurring pattern and I found it kind of humorous. It came in handy though because towards the end I realize I had so much cute stuff, but still had a ton of “boring” stuff to get. So keep that in mind!

    I think though, out of everything, the one thing about pregnancy that I never really thought about before is that I after I got over the initial shock, I started imagining this life for this other person. It is interesting when you have these strong feelings about the kind of life you want for you child, because it is a reflection of what you find important. I just want this baby to be happy and healthy. And really smart. I secretly hope he is really good at science, because I wasn’t. In fact, I’ve never taken a chemistry class and opted for physics instead. I really hope that doesn’t bite me in the butt one day if he ever asks me to help with his science homework. Ugh.

    Well, I have eight days left until my due date. I think he will be here before then though.. if I were to guess. I think I’ll sleep until then or something because I can’t move anymore really.

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    personally lyka

    On Pregnancy

    So I am officially back to my country, permanently! I came back with a Master of Art’s degree in International Politics and Human Rights and a baby that will (should) be born next month. Surprise! Coming back from London, and expecting to be a single mother was not in my plans, but life does not care about your plans. Which is fine, adaptability is something I like to think I have acquired after all these years anyway. The last few months have been a roller coaster of emotions, and I do not know if this it is the hormones talking or what– although I like to throw that excuse out there when I can, because no one will question me anymore. Perks. Between wrapping up my master’s program, finishing my dissertation, a transatlantic move to North Carolina, and adjusting to life in a new place.. it has been a lot. It has also been a learning experience!

    I can remember the day I found out I was pregnant so vividly, it was on the 27th of April. I remember looking at those two lines and thinking, “Oh. My. God.” I remember really wanting lots of fruit juice that previous week, not being able to get up for my final weeks of lectures because I was too exhausted, and falling asleep in the library because I could not stay awake whatsoever (in the middle of the day). I remember calling my mother within hours of finding out, and before I could even say the news, I could not stop crying out of shame and feeling so mortified. She was very happy about the news, by the way. I on the other hand, I was complete a wreck. I had essays due, a dissertation proposal to write, and at the time a boyfriend I barely knew. It was not the time. Not that there ever really is a right time, but this definitely erred more on the worst possible timing side of things.

    Fast forward to now, two trimesters, a master’s degree, a new country, and a breakup later– I’m here and my baby (it’s a boy) is still here. By the grace of God that baby is still here. I say that because during the first trimester I really worried about miscarrying just because I was not expecting this and you never know what could happen, and the second and third trimester was just full of stress from my situations. It was unbelievably stressful. I really wanted to be fully happy about this baby, and I was happy to a certain extent, but the situations surrounding this pregnancy put such a dark cloud over me for a while. Now I am at a place where most days are better than others, I am still settling into my new place in Charlotte, NC, and I know I made the right choice by coming back to the US. I had previously planned to stay in London due to the work opportunities within my studies, but God had other plans for now and I’m really OK with that.

    I could say a lot of other things about this pregnancy, but I what I will say for now is that outside of my normal first-time mommy fears, I am pretty anxious now to see this little man that’s been kicking me all throughout the late night hours. Aside from only being slightly uncomfortable, this pregnancy has been really easy so far. I was really surprised. I will hold my breath though because this labor part that is coming up next month might be a different story.. hopefully I will get some sort of a nursery up by then. Oops.

    Well the good news is now I have a ton of free time to write since I am currently unemployed, and a lot of material saved up from the past year! So, I shall see you sooner than later. Until next time..

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    20something, communication, personally lyka

    On lessons, hard learned

    It’s about to be my 26th birthday! Actually it’s about 2 months away, but if you’re younger than me– you learn as you get older that time will start flying by so quickly. I looked at the date today like– what? May’s almost over? GTFOH. So much has happened in this past almost year, I do not even know where to start. I’m about 2/3s finished with my Masters degree, that’s assuming by the grace of God I passed my second term. Questioning the status of my pending Master’s degree aside– so… too much has happened this year. Good things, bad things, and most importantly– lessons that are learned in the most obnoxious and painful route possible also known as the hard way. Literal growing pains hurt, but in my opinion, figurative ones hurt way more. Then again, once you get over that discomfort, certain lessons bring a much needed and way overdue sigh of relief. And without further ado, here are some things I’ve learned up until now in my short, almost-26 years of life:

    Unequal friendships aren’t worth fighting for, and you shouldn’t feel bad about cutting your losses.
    As I’ve previously stated before, breaking up with friends is a hard, but sometimes a very necessary thing to do. Perhaps one side is doing more than the other, and I’ve been on both sides of this problem, so I really do get it. I’ve found that in life, relationships will probably never be equal, and if you’re keeping score that in itself is a start to a bigger problem. However, there are some friendships that are so imbalanced you just need to let it go. Whether you’re the person who is being used, or you find yourself wondering why the other person is getting frustrated with you for not “_______ with them enough” even though you probably ______ with them more than people you actually like way more– but they don’t get it because their expectations go beyond the output you’re giving them. Honestly, who has time for that kind of effort if you’re really not into that friend as much as they are into you. I’m not saying, but I’m just saying.

    But on a serious note, whether you find yourself putting too much effort into friendships and you’re tired– cut your losses while you can. Or if you’re the person who has a friend who is demanding way too much out of you because their perception of the relationship doesn’t meet yours– cut your loss if it’s not that important to you. Life’s too short for whiny acquaintances. No shade.

    People need to stop being so reactive and start being proactive, especially when it comes to disputes.
    If there’s anything I learned from my Organizational Behavior in Business class from undergrad, it’s that any and every miscommunication or falling out is a two-way street. People are so obsessed with playing a finger pointing game and wanting to be the innocent party, it’s so sickening and annoying. Let’s imagine for a second that you say something via text message and the recipient takes offense to it, even though you didn’t mean it in an offensive way. Simple thing, happens all the time when you communicate in an impersonal way where context is open for interpretation. Here are several ways in which it could/should play out:

  • The sender could get mad because the recipient got mad, which completely does not acknowledge the other person’s feelings and usually just drags out the argument.
  • The sender could try to explain how they didn’t mean it in the way that the other person took it, and apologize for the miscommunication– rarely happens.
  • Recipient won’t even tell the sender that they’re offended and just acts accordingly and proceeds to ignoring the other person without addressing the problem, which just creates another problem.. which then makes small issues bigger than they ever need to be.
  • The recipient, prior to getting mad, could assume that maybe they’re jumping to conclusions and ask whether the sender meant it in the way that this person initially thought it meant, thus avoiding that awkward moment in the first place. This is assuming that this communication is between people with a somewhat good relationship, because why would a logical person assume someone meant the worst thing ever? This is asking too much, because people are so irrational..
  • Anyway, you get my point here. Obviously, there are many more scenarios that could play out here, and in anything in life it is way too easy to just finger point to the other person and say you did this, you did that.. so easy. I think there’s something to say for people who acknowledge their part in any dispute, without accounting for who did this and that. Next time you get in an argument, if you can attempt to say “I” statements instead of “you” statements, you’ll probably solve things much quicker or at least come to some agreement. Or not. Some thangs ain’t worth fighting for, y’all… which another topic for another day.

    You can stop blaming your parents now.
    I think we can all say something about what our parents did wrong and how they should have done this and that for you. The older I get, the more I realize I need just let it go with my parents. I love them, I know they really tried their best. I get that some people, have had traumatic and downright abusive things happen to them, but I’m not referring to that. I’m talking about people that want to hold a grudge against their parents for not putting them in group sports or didn’t push them hard enough or their parents were too strict or they’re “damaged” because of their parents’ divorce or they were a latch key kid who was alone all the time. I get it. I’m sure the majority of people can find some kind of fault in their parents efforts. However, you have a choice in your life to hold grudges or not, and honestly the person persistent grudges hurt the most is you. There’s a certain level of enlightenment, where you realize that you have the choice of looking at things differently. Perception is reality, and how you feel about things can change as easy as you looking at things differently. Looking back, I just see people who tried to raise a daughter as best as they could, and that’s what matters most. I say this, because no person is perfect, and imperfect people grow up to be imperfect parents… and I like to believe that people do try their best in important situations. There are so many inner demons and issues that parents go through, and to be empathetic to them on a human to human level really is relieving for me.. rather than to think of them as selfish people who could have clearly made better choices. It’s so easy to look back and see errors, but you also need to move on and not let things hold you back, because after a certain point the only person holding you back is yourself.

    Don’t think you can pick up and leave for a new place without thinking you won’t leave a piece of your heart behind.
    I think prior to me leaving for London, I didn’t think I’d miss my friends and family so much. I feel like I took advantage of having my loved ones just a quick drive or impromptu flight away, because I really miss everyone back home so much more than I ever wanted to admit. Don’t get me wrong, I have met wonderful people here that’ll probably never get deleted from my Facebook friends list (JK, guys), but it doesn’t compare to having history with so many people. I’ve been through some thangs with friends back home, and I miss having that support system and being around people that genuinely love me because it’s so difficult sometimes when I need a good friend that’s truly on my side. And I’m not talking about any friend, I’m talking about the kind of friend that has seen you without makeup and looking homeless AF, and still publicly hangs out with you. The kind of friend who hates your man when you hate him, and will be right next to you shoving your face with ice cream while discussing your temporary hate of all men, and will still be by your side when you love him again. I’m talking about the kind of friend that knows your deep and dark secrets, and, surprisingly, doesn’t judge you for it. I’m talking about the ride or die friend that’ll get into some mess with you at the last second and doesn’t ask any ridiculous questions like “are you going to get arrested for this?”. Some people just aren’t that down. Sometimes, I just need that friend. Like, it’s rare, but it does happen. Sometimes Skype doesn’t cut it really, because my heart is deep in the heart of Texas.. and some other parts of the US. Anyway my point is, I miss my loved ones. I can’t wait to see you all soon!

    This 25th year of my life has been.. interesting in a good way. I have loved myself, I have hated myself. I have met awesome people that taught me more things than a classroom ever has, and that kind of education is priceless. I’m right at that point where I have to grow up, although I’m still finding ways not to. I’m serious. But I love myself at 25 way more than any other year, and some interesting things are about to happen! Maybe I’ll blog more about said things. I say this every year, I think.. we’ll see how I feel tomorrow. Don’t hold your breath.

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    dating, personally lyka, Thrash

    On the “nice guy”

    Throughout most of my adult life, I can honestly say I usually have more guy friends than women friends. Not because I’m one of those self-proclaiming “I do not get along with women” women who is essentially “just like the guys”– although who really wants to be like a guy? That’s another topic, for another day. And the bottom line is– for me, I’m not as picky with my guy friends because I talk more about what’s important to me with my women friends, so obviously I’m more selective about those who I’m closest to. And that’s that.

    Onto my guy friends. It is pretty inevitable in almost every conversation that happens whilst we are eating or drinking we end up on the conversation of women and men. It never fails. One of the repeated things I hear from some of my male friends is that women do not want a “nice guy” and actually prefer jerks. And I just cannot understand from where guys get that ridiculous notion, because last time I checked grown women do not actually like jerks. Honestly, what sane person admits to even liking jerks? Image from Post SecretThis stupid idea is then planted into some poor guys’ head and then starts a sick cycle of nice guy turns into an asshole who then turns nice girl into, for lack of a better word, a bitch.

    I am just going to state that, for the most part, we do not want to date an asshole. However.. at one point we probably did (instant regret) date that guy, but listen– we do not end up with that guy. That guy is just someone that happens in passing, a guy that was a mistake (or lesson– whatever), and was probably during a time where there were several bad decisions and possibly copious amounts of alcohol. Or you could have just had a bad judgement call. Whatever. The point is, this isn’t the final guy.

    I do believe though that women do not like men who are pushovers and insecure. Whoever equated someone being nice to someone being a pushover is confusing a lot of people out there. You’re not helping women like me, who actually like nice men– who are not pushovers, and at the same time not uncompromising, egotistical jerks who have their heads so far up their ass that all they care about is being right. No. No, we do not want that, and what sane person would?

    From speaking with other like minded women, honestly.. I think a nice guy that is also confident, but not in the fake, overcompensating, dictator way is really the ideal choice. Confidence in a man, is just extremely hot. Like.. you could be a 4 and bumped up to a 7, kind of hot. Trust me, I’ve dated that guy and it’s a real thing, y’all.

    So I need the moaning from alleged/stereotypical “nice guys” to cease, because you’re just misguided. It’s not that you’re nice, it’s definitely something else. Perhaps lack of a back bone. I hate to tell you that, but I’m not here to boost egos. On the other hand! There are a select few who like that type of guy*.. those are dominant people. If you’re OK with not being the dominant one, then good for you. Don’t change, sweetheart.

    *Exception, not the rule.

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